


higher than sense

by fuckingkinney



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckingkinney/pseuds/fuckingkinney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't really know how you managed to get into this situation, you just know that you're hard and inside of his mouth tastes like nothing you've ever tried before and you need all of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	higher than sense

**Author's Note:**

> i tried something new & i'm still not sure if i like it, but yeah. hopefully it pays off & if not, then i apologize. alot.

You don't really know how you managed to get into this situation, you just know that you're hard and inside of his mouth tastes like nothing you've ever tried before and you need all of it.

It was meant to be something that happened once, because you were both there and suddenly you were on his chest and hard and he was _staring_ at you like he could read your mind. It terrified you and made you even harder at the same time.

When he fucked you, you didn't know if the sparks were from the joint you'd smoked before you passed out or because he knew what he was doing like he'd done it hundreds of times before.

You got addicted too fucking quick and he was meant to be something that you never acknowledged before in your life.

He was meant to be the scum that tried to violate your sister; only that wasn't true and you didn't kill him. You waited until he did something else that gave you the opportunity to. The urge is always there, at the back of your mind, nagging you and telling you to just give into it. This is a good enough reason; he took advantage of you, never quit and didn't give in until he got all he could out of you and more.

Except you'd done it willingly, craved it and the how you couldn't stop picturing the look in his eyes when you left him to go and kill his 'father', who wasn't even his fucking father. 

You put yourself away in jail to avoid getting yourself killed and didn't think about the fact he never showed up. Not even once it would have been obvious that Frank was alive. Because you said you were done and you were done with him and at the time, you didn't know what you were saying and you still don't as you let your lips move against his in noises that aren't heard.

You didn't tell him it was all you thought about - that you silently hoped to whatever was above that it was him whenever you were told you had a visitor but instead it was your sister.

You told him that you fucked other guys in Juvie, that you weren't someone's bitch. Because you weren't. You were his. Even inside; all you thought about was a beacon of bright red hair and a smile that was too fucking optimistic and you didn't fuck anyone else because they weren't him and didn't get you off the way you wanted them to.

So instead you shoved your head into a pillow with your hand shoved down your boxers, fucking into it with such urgency that you didn't know whether or not you felt better or worse by the time you were done forcing back his name on your tongue.

Because it was always easier to lie rather than telling the truth - something you learned from an early age. You'd even done it tonight; told him you needed to be somewhere soon, even though you didn't have anything you were needed for. 

When you gave him an inch, he took it as a mile and you said that you were needed almost an hour ago and you still hadn't left. Didn't have any thought of doing so and it shouldn't have been this way. You weren't meant to get like this and yet you wanted more, needed more.

It occurred to you for the hundredth time that it was going to get you killed and then he rubbed his thigh against your crotch and your mind went even more static than what it already was.

* * *

You did have plans to leave - just because it was either that or let him think that you may have possibly cared about him. You didn't. You just had to ignore the fact you were convincing yourself that as well as him, even if neither of you believed yourself. It was worth the effort of doing it though..- but he looked at you as though you were killing him from the inside out and you could feel yourself giving in without meaning to.

And then he offered you weed and you couldn't stop yourself from climbing into the shitty van in the back garden of the Gallagher's place and sliding into the small space next to him. Ignored how easy it would be for someone to see both of you together as you slammed the door closed behind you and watched as he lit up a joint so smoothly it shouldn't have been allowed.

You would have told him that as well if it make you realize how fucking gay you were being, acting. And it has your head spinning before you've even taken your first hit because you weren't _meant_ to be acting like this.

It was meant to be fucking; nothing more, nothing less. Except he was making it more, always making it more.

You kept your eyes on his face as his own slid closed, as if this wasn't dangerous and obvious. You couldn't make yourself relax though, not until he waved the joint in your direction and you took too many drags to keep count. It was barely a 30/70 share but he didn't complain so you weren't going to bring it up.

Not when you could feel the muscles in your body relaxing and your own eyes allowing themselves to start closing. 

So you both laid there, too carelessly, as the joint was discarded, forgotten about and burnt out. The silence was thickening and overly calm, something you should have been aware and alarmed of long before he started to move besides you.

Except you didn't pay as much attention as you should have to anything and then he was there, hovering over you until you opened your eyes and blinked at him in a mixture of emotions you weren't going to label until you were dead.

"What the fuck are ya' doin', Gallagher?" You bit out instead, ignoring the fact that you didn't sound as threatening and the smirk forming on his face proved that further.

"Just let me.." Except he wasn't really saying anything that he was meant to and instead was leaning in towards you so carefully you weren't fully sure he actually knew what he was doing.

Until it was silent and his lips were on yours and your head was spinning again, too much for you to handle. Yet the moment you felt his tongue swipe your lower lip, you opened up like you always did - always would. 

Because you weren't the dominant one in these situations and you ignored how you were meant to be threatened by that instead of reveling in it. 

His tongue moved into your mouth with more confidence than it should have and then was the moment that you were suppose to push him away and leave, except you pulled him further down against you and opened his legs as he slid between them like he'd planned this whole thing.

It wouldn't have actually surprised you if he had. 

It wasn't like you hadn't kissed him before, either. It was nowhere near this though; barely less than a minute and it caught him off guard before you got shot in the ass and before he got sent to a carehouse.

The thought makes you wonder if he's still there or whether he's back in his actual home by now. You and him never talk about things that are too personal unless one of you is too drunk to move and leave the room, but then his leg slips in between yours and you really don't think you could pull away to ask even if you actually wanted to.

Instead you move down against it and you're not sure who moans first, are somewhat positive it's you even though it shames you beyond words, but continue to move against it anyway. You can feel him pushing down against you, can feel his cock through the denim of his jeans as it pushes against your hip bone and you don't know whether his jeans are actually open or not. You can't find it within yourself to care as he rocks down against you at the same time you rock down against his thigh. 

It's a rhythm that gets more insistent as time goes on, more uncoordinated and neither of you really care. Just hover your mouths together and pant into the other's like it's a normal thing for you to be doing. Except it's not and you know it.. You know that he knows it too, that he's pushing his luck and waiting for you to punch him the face or magically vanish from beneath him.

It's an urge that you can't deny isn't building up as you force your fingertips harder into the fabric covering his shoulders, uncaring that you may leave marks even through it. He deserved them. You hope that they last and _hurt_. 

Except you're too far gone to make sure that they actually happen and you can feel his hands gripping your hips harder -you'll probably be the one left with marks, not him- along with his thrusts and breathing going uneven. You know they're tell tale signs and if anything, it spurs you on in the worst possible way.

You grip at him harder, shudder as you tug him down against you until his face is pressed in the gap between shoulder and neck, mouth wide against it as you rut off each other like something pathetic. You've never felt closer to you and you've had his cock in your ass as far as either of you can go.. It terrifies you and not in the good way and it's that thought that makes the sparks go off behind your eyelids as you push yourself down against him a final time before you're cumming and it's too much.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder, fingers dig harder into his shoulder and you're sure you can hear a gasp behind the fog covering your mind.. But you just cummed in your own boxers and it's the first thought that waves over you as he finally rolls off besides you; chest heaving and eyes still closed. 

And the silence between you is thick again - not in the good way. In the way that makes you want to claw out his eyes and make him really scream, but instead you lay there and keep your eyes closed. Pretend you're not aware of him or what just happened as you turn onto your side, away from him, and curl in on yourself. Because you feel wrong and dirty and high and he's right and _clean_ and he's the least grounded person you've ever known.

So when he pushes his chest up against your back and makes a tired noise against your neck, you pretend your asleep and give him the mile. Because you don't know how you got here and that should have been enough to make you run for your life, but he's wrapping his arms around you like he wants nothing else and it makes you want to sob. So you let him, until you wake up in the morning with him laying half over you and feel your chest cave in from the fear alone.

**Author's Note:**

> FEEDBACK ME PLEASE. <3  
> also: massive thank you to Morgan (http://danygallagher.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing this slightly during the first 'part'. <3333
> 
> also: feedback me. do it.


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